Echoes of the Unspoken
by JetherWing
Summary: The Ducks discover the body of a young duck at the Anaheim Mall. But with it they discover a secret from the past that refuses to be silent, from a person that can no longer tell them.
1. Default Chapter

**General Disclaimer**: The Mighty Ducks, Wildwing, Nosedive, Tanya, Grin, Duke, Mallory, Police Chief Klegghorn, and Thrash are all property of Disney, and used without permission.  Lestat, Amber, and Mara are copyright © Amber VanDrake, and used with permission.  The story and all other characters are copyright © JetherWing 2003.  

**Author's Note**: first of all, I wanna extend a big thank you to Amber VanDrake for helping me edit this story and getting my feet wet in co-authoring with someone.  And as such, the typical angst of encountering a fan character is usually the question, "Just who the bloody hell are they?"  Well, to avoid confusion, there is a brief description of Amber Vandrake's three fan characters in the story—they're at the end.  YAY!!!  You can look back at this for reference or pretend it is not there, tee-hee! 

Okay, then people…hope that cleared up some confusion…and without further ado, here is part one of the story…please read and review—that means helpful suggestions, flames, compliments, wisecracks…mm…or those tangy raspberry tart people that you have to catch with jars!!!

Oh yeah…this story is rated R for language and mature themes.  Enjoy!    

**_Echoes of the Unspoken_****, Part One**

The Mighty Ducks had received a weird phone call that day.  

Wildwing had almost hung up on the person, thinking it was a wrong number.  But the voice on the other line wanted to speak to Nosedive.  Since Thrash had never called the base, Wildwing had not recognized the voice and then thought that it was a prank call.  But he got Nosedive anyway.  

As soon as Nosedive picked up the line, the video-phone system on Drake One blinked with an incoming call.  It was Police Chief Klegghorn.     

A body had been found on the street that day.  People thought that it might have been a huge case of road kill.  Then they thought it was a dead hobo.  Whatever it was, it was something that they would rather not see in their clean streets.  No one knew where it had come from, and no one had a mind to consider any possibilities.  They only gathered around it; some people were even bold enough to poke at it.  

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on, man," Thrash had stated on the phone earlier.  "But it was bringing a lot of attention!"

"Things like this can drive the public crazy, Wildwing," Klegghorn had said.  Wildwing wanted to tell Nosedive to stop talking with his friends and get ready to go to the hospital.  

But Nosedive ignored his hand gestures.

"No kiddin, man," Dive had said, between swapping looks of puzzlement to Wildwing.  He put his other hand to his ear so he could drown out Klegghorn's loud echoing on the Drake One.

There was a pause and a disgruntled sigh from Thrash on the phone.  "But man, ya shoulda seen it, Dive!  Someone was about to call the ambulance, but then I guess they saw it—uncovered it I mean—and no one really knew what to do.  It was like that…twilighty—show…ya know about that zone?"

"What is the condition?"  Wildwing asked Klegghorn.  "Is it alright?"

"Um…So what the hell did ya do, Thrash-miester?"  Nosedive asked at the same time.     

The ambulance and the police had arrived in less than an hour.      

"Well, Wing, quite frankly it looks pretty bad," Klegghorn answered.

"Heh…I guess I thought you guys would wanna know something like this," Thrash had said.  "I mean, it ain't every day you see something like this, baby! Hoo!  But I tell ya what, man, everybody was just sitting there on their asses and I'm all like, ok fuck this, so I call the ambulance natch!"

Klegghorn had looked away from the screen for a brief second, rubbing the back of his neck.  "But whatever the situation, I thought it was only reasonable—and respectful—to let you guys be the first visitors."  That said, Klegghorn had given the location of the hospital and Wildwing had signed off.  Wildwing sighed and contacted Tanya with his wrist communicator.  

"But I took one look at it, man…one look at it…" Thrash went on.  His tone had changed already.  There was something serious in it, something that made Nosedive doubt that Thrash was high or drunk.  

"And something just told me, I mean, I guess it was obvious, but sorry man, I said to myself…Shit, dude…Dive has GOT to see this."  

There was an awkward silence, something that Thrash had never done before.  It scared Nosedive.  

"Thrash?  You there, brutha?"

"Aw weak, man!"  Thrash answered suddenly.  "Turn on the TV!  It's already on the fucking news, dude!"

Nosedive carried the phone over to the recreation room, and flipped on the news channel.  He had only seen a few seconds of it before he realized that Wildwing and Tanya had gone.

Tanya and Wildwing arrived at the hospital about ten minutes after they had received the call.  Klegghorn stood waiting outside the entrance.  He was strangely alone.  Wildwing and Tanya thought that the silence was…dizzying.  They were too used to the barrage of camera flashes questions.  Later on, Wildwing could not recall how they got into the hospital.  

"Guess the press must have been scared off, huh Tanya?"  Wildwing had said, trying to alleviate some of the anxiety.  

"Well, yeah, Wildwing...virtually no one is allowed here," Klegghorn had answered for her over his shoulder, and Wildwing realized that they had gone below the ground level of the hospital—to the morgue.

When Tanya and Wildwing returned to the Pond, they were not surprised to see the rest of their teammates waiting at the entrance.  But the other teammates were surprised to see them wheeling in what looked like a small black body bag, strapped down to the metal slab.

There were a few reactions from the team, and random exclamations all around.

"_You gotta be kidding me…"_

            Tanya looked at her other teammates soberly.  "They wanted to put the body in the crematory…there…at their hospital…but…we just thought that…uh…"  She trailed off, shaking her head.    

"_What the hell is going on?"_

            She nodded to Wildwing, then motioned to Grin.  "Uh, Grin?…It's heavy."

Grin silently nodded back and went to help her wheel the cart into the medical room.  Lestat paused only a moment before tightening his belt a notch and followed them as well.

            "Alright, will someone please just spit it out?!"  Duke said irritably, approaching Wildwing.  "There's no need to hide anything from us; we saw it on TV.  But why did you bring it here?"

            "First of all, Duke, we're pretty sure that _it's_ female," answered Wildwing.  "And secondly, it's too late…she was already in the morgue by the time we got there."  

After a few seconds of looking back and forth between Duke and Wildwing, Nosedive wrinkled his beak.  "Well…if she's dead, then why is she here?"

Wildwing sighed.  "Well, baby bro, that's the only part that I _think_ might be good news.  I'm sure you all wondered how she got here…So Tanya has volunteered to do an autopsy…but we need a few of you to go back and see if you can find anything….I mean, anything that would give us a clue as to where she came from….Besides, I think whoever she is, she deserves a proper burial."  

Nosedive immediately stepped up to volunteer to go back to the mall, and Mallory raised her hand as well.  Amber hesitated but Nosedive put a hand on her shoulder and she nodded her head also.  Wildwing gave them leave to go.      

As they were leaving, he turned in Duke's direction.  "Heh, almost forgot about you, old timer."  Duke smiled back and put his arm around Mara's waist.

"Old timer, I think not," Duke replied.

"If you'd like, you two can go and see if they need anymore help with uh—'' He did a quick gesture of his hand.   

"With all due respect Wildwing," Mara started, but Wildwing had raised his hand.  

"I know…I think we're all thinking the same thing, guys.  I hate this as much as you do."      

            When they opened up the body bag, the girl duckling's eyes were half open, glazing over a strange blue color.  Tanya reached out a gloved hand and shut them.  She tried hard not to remember how Grin, Lestat and Duke had lifted the body from the bag and placed it on another clean metal slab, and how the body had made a strange _thunk_ that had made Tanya's eye water.  It was still so small…about four feet at most, but still heavy.  Death had a way of doing that.  

            It had been a while since she had encountered this…not that it hadn't brought back any unpleasant memories when she was back on Puckworld.  Shit…kids died all the time, she knew that, but this…  

            The dead duckling had been found with no clothes on…only a few garbage bags wrapped around her.  Mara closed her eyes for a moment before walking to Tanya's side.  She put on medical gloves, ready to assist in any way that she could.    

Just then, Wildwing had come in.  There was no way he could wait outside—there had been a strange nausea that developed in his gut as soon as he arrived back at the Pond.  

Tanya turned to Grin, Lestat, and Duke.  "Ok, uh listen up… anyone who gets edgy around dead bodies, ya know you can just ya know—uh…you don't have to help if you don't want to you guys, okay?"

            By Grin's unmoving fray and Duke's lifting of an eyebrow, she knew otherwise.  She didn't know why she bothered asking Lestat since he was probably the most comfortable around death…but sometimes dead children brought up hidden feelings.  

"Ok…so what does this involve?" Duke asked, leaning over Mara's shoulder to see the array of surgical instruments she had set out.  "I mean, how do we know that she came from our world?"

"That's not why we're doing this, Duke," Tanya answered calmly, getting out a tape recorder.  "I think it is pretty obvious where she came from, besides, but uh—that's why Nosedive, Amber and Mallory went out just in case.  I'm here to mainly find out the cause of death.  The Earth hospitals didn't even bother with it.  Uh, not that it's gonna be easy…from what I already saw, there are no signs of bruising, no trauma, nothing."  She switched a button on the tape recorder, then handed it to Duke.  "You know how this works?"  

Duke started suddenly, a little embarrassed.  

Tanya sighed.  "Ok, here's what I want you to do…just record the date, the time, and the description of the…uh ya know, the subject.  That means things like uh, height, weight, gender, species…um…time of death….Here."  She handed Duke a clipboard with a yellow piece of paper, then looked at the body thoughtfully.  "Lestat recorded all of those things before you came here…"  

Trying to make light of an already grim situation, Lestat made a thumbs up sign.  "As usual, buddy boy, ya got your work _cut_ out for ya."  He blushed slightly when he noticed his unintentional pun and gave a careful glance over at Tanya.  She was wiping a scalpel so hard that he was sure she would take the lacquer right off. 

Duke tried to laugh, but only gulped. "Guess this won't be so bad…there's hardly any smell."   

Mara took out five surgical masks and handed one to everyone.  

"Just in case," she murmured, adjusting her mask over her face.  

Duke cleared his throat.  "Autopsy date: February 9, 2003.  Time 7:24 pm…subject is a young female duck—''

A little yelp cut him off.  He looked up to see Tanya staring wide eyed at the body, scalpel raised, panting a little.  Duke stopped the tape recorder.  "You ok there, kid?"  His voice was gentle.  Wildwing leaned forward, but there was a feeling that made him dizzy, tingling.  

Tanya blinked and then looked at them, and they could see a slight blush come up her cheeks.  "Uh, I'm sorry, it's been a while ya know, heh…I thought I saw her—I mean uh, saw it—move a bit.  Heh…sorry if I gave you guys the, ya know, the heebie jeebies, heh."  

Grin had his gloved fingers to his chin, a doubtful look on his face.  Lestat leaned over the body and shrugged his shoulders, unimpressed.

"Looks pretty dead to me."

"Uh, guys…think I'm gonna go right here and watch ya okay?"  Wildwing said softly, feeling somewhat out of breath.  He leaned on the cold steel of the counters.

Duke turned the tape recorder back on.  "Ok…where was I?  Oh…subject is a young fem—''

"Holy mother of ducks—''

Duke looked up again and saw that Grin, Lestat, and Tanya were stepping backwards from the body.  He looked down at the slab and then dropped the tape recorder.  He, Mara, and Lestat then reached by their sides for their sabers.  

"He-hey guys… is it hot in here?  Aren't there… supposed… fans in this room?"  Wildwing panted.  

"But—but—that's impossible," Tanya was saying softly.  "I thought they said she was dead—''

They all saw that the little duck's white chest began to move slowly, up and down.  The closed eyes twitched, and then they slowly opened.  There was the sound of an inhaling, and then the eyes opened wider.  Those eyes, a strange maroon color, stared numbly at the light.  When she slowly sat up, the light bathed her ghostly white feathers so intensely that they almost looked transparent.  She turned her intensely alive maroon eyes on Wildwing.  

Duke shouted something, there was a strange groan coming from Grin, a whimper from Tanya, a curse from Lestat, and a whisper from Mara.

Wildwing started forward, but there was a fatigue and an invisible pressure somewhere about him that made him grip the sides of the cold steel counter.  

The duckling's long black hair, knotty and disheveled, covered her back.  She opened her mouth to speak, but she seemed to be struggling with words as much as everyone else.  Wildwing cupped his throat, emitting gagging sounds.

"Whuh-why are we here?" she said, her voice coming out groggy, then clear.  They could see her trembling.__

Wildwing's beak drooped open, trembling at the bottom, and the female duck inquired softly again through her tears, "Why are we here? Why did you—"

When Wildwing groped for the shiny black oxygen tank, he only saw yellow.

Wildwing started out of bed then, there was a small crash of something and then he heard himself gasping for breath, gasping, gasping—

He stopped abruptly when he saw the gold mask glinting on the floor.  

"Hey Wing, you okay?"  Wildwing jerked his head at the door to where Lestat's voice came from.  

"Uh, yeah, Lestat…don't worry about anything," Wildwing called out before clearing his throat several times.  

Lestat stood there for a few long seconds outside the door to Wildwing's room.  Wildwing thought to himself, _Please don't let him come in here and see me like this…last thing I wanna do is tell him that I got scared because of a stupid little dream!_

He sighed with relief as he heard Lestat's soft footsteps walk away.  He squinted his eyes at the amber tint of the predawn that set in through his window.  He got up and scooped the gold mask up from the floor, placing it in the drawer of the night stand.  He tried to go back to sleep; he was already forgetting about the dream.

But he found that in those last few hours before the rest of the world awoke, he could not.

To Be Continued…

Okay, like I promised, here are the three descriptions:

Lestat: 21-year-old drake, copper hair, yellow eyes, patch on beak, vertical white scar over right eye.  This guy is very lanky, and has been best friends with Duke since he was 16.  He ranked number 3 in the Smuggler's Guild, an organization of professional thieves back on Puckworld.  Now for the gossip: he has been in love with Mara (below) for years and wants nothing more than his best friends to be happy…so he pretends he doesn't care that Mara and Duke are going out.  Since the dude is a confused bisexual, he also denies feelings he has toward Duke but at the same time has a secret crush on Wildwing.

Mara: 24-year-old (just a month older than duke), short black hair, glowing green eyes, grey feathers.  She is relatively shy and very sweet, but has a sarcastic tone like duke (just less corny jokes).  She is also a member of the Smuggler's Guild.  She is very maternal toward Amber but afraid to give her little sister too many rules for fear of losing her.

Amber: no one knows how old she is, assumed around 16-18, medium to long brown hair, cold yellow eyes, tattoo of heart on outside of upper right thigh.  This duck is way too skinny, has no figure and is really flat—think somewhere along the lines of Sally the Ragdoll from The Nightmare Before Christmas. Amber is very self-conscious about her appearance, and can be a real crybaby. But this girl is all bark and no bite: she tends to come off as bitter and cruel but she mostly wants others to notice her.  And once she has their friendship, she is a friend for life.


	2. Echoes of the Unspoken chapter 2

**General Disclaimer**: The Mighty Ducks, Wildwing, Nosedive, Tanya, Grin, Duke, Mallory, Police Chief Klegghorn, Mookie, and Thrash are all property of Disney, and used without permission. Lestat, Amber, and Mara are copyright © Amber VanDrake 2004, and used with permission. The story and all other characters are copyright © JetherWing 2004.

**Author's Note**: Well, as usual, I have the ideas for the stories but with school and work it has taken me a while to add this on.  I want to again send a big thank you to Amber VanDrake for helping me with the editing and encouraging me—she's taught me that if I want to do something, then I better give it my all.  Thanks, Amber!  And thank you, kind reader, for continuing to read on after all this time.  This section is rated R for language and content.  Enjoy! 

Echoes of the Unspoken: Part 2

The sky looked plain blue from where they were heading, but behind them white clouds lingered. Not that there was anything to complain about—there would be clear skies all day in beautiful downtown Anaheim, according to the weather report. Nevertheless, Nosedive regretted going out without a jacket—he hunched his shoulders as if anticipating wind.

"Wing didn't get any sleep last night."

Nosedive jumped at the sound of Lestat's voice—even though Lestat spoke in Duke and Mara's direction, Lestat always pitched his voice in a certain tone when he wanted Nosedive to hear him.

Mara stretched. "Too bad…it's a hell of a nice day out!"

Glad that Mara inadvertently changed the subject, Nosedive chimed in, "So—  
anyone up for the beach later or something?"

"I am," answered Lestat, to Nosedive's surprise. Usually Dive let anything that Lestat said roll off his back, but just hearing his voice made him more irritable than usual today. "I got some tan lines on my ass that I'm just dying to get rid of!"

"Nothing doing, Stat," Dive found himself retorting. "Wouldn't be able to tan that ass with the shadow of some fat man all over it, buddy boy."

Mara and Duke laughed in pretend contempt, and Nosedive laughed with them for the first time since this morning.

Duke looked in Nosedive's direction and clapped him on the back. "Hey, good to see ya smile, kid! Rough night?"

Nosedive nodded quickly and did not make eye contact. He could see the smiling super-hero sign of the Captain Comics Shop. He quickly thought of an excuse—a comic that he would want, or maybe a band shirt that just came in.

"Man, you and Wing," Lestat added, shaking his head. "What happened to you guys last night anyway?"

Nosedive quickened his pace. Maybe Thrash and Mook would have some leftover triple spice tacos for him—that would make him feel better. Though he did hear once—maybe from Tanya or Mallory—that greasy, fatty foods made you tired and unfocused: that was why no one ate take-out on the day of a game. In that case, maybe he should get a triple espresso. He wasn't sure, really—he did not know whether he wanted to sleep or stay awake.  Suddenly the tacky colors of the sign hurt his eyes.

"Um, ok, so we'll meet you in the store, right kiddo?"

Nosedive turned around to see at least thirty feet between him and the other three.  Now the whole damn sun hurt his vision—he put his hand over his eyes. Duke shrugged his shoulders at him, smiling in amused surprise. Mara waved her arms, and slowly worded Nosedive's name as if she were in the vacuum of space.

Nosedive did not want to walk back towards them, towards the white clouds. He faltered for a minute, managed a laugh and quickly added, "Uh—sorry there guys. Nature calls, ya know?" 

He immediately turned away, not caring what Lestat would say, though he could hear him snickering even from that distance.

And it was a good thing that he stood right next to the entrance of the store. Suddenly his stomach felt strange, the weight coming back and filling him like an empty stone. And then the muscles cramped together and he knew he had to get to the bathroom—fast.

Nosedive entered the Captain Comics Shop, not noticing Thrash and Mookie as he passed.  He made a mental note to thank them later for not locking their private bathroom facility.

Mookie's eyes flashed when she saw Lestat.  "Hey Lestat, how's it hanging, dude?"  She reached over for a high five.

"Like a bull, baby," Lestat answered, returning her high five.  Mookie rolled her eyes and Thrash laughed loudly, shaking his head.  He began to sort through the cardboard boxes behind the counter; Thrash and Mookie always let Lestat have first ganders at the new merchandise before they put it on shelf. 

"You are entering a world, where common sense, has no meaning…" Mara said in a monotone.

"You mean the Twilight Zone?"  Thrash answered, jumping up.

"No, I meant the Lestat Groupie Club, but close enough."          

"True dat," Thrash answered, handing Lestat a black tee shirt.  Lestat smiled his thanks and unfolded it.  He laughed.  "Aw, wicked, guys!  It's a shirt with the Phishman logo on it…say, Dive would really like this…" Lestat then cleared his throat when he saw Duke smirking at his hidden kindness.  "I mean, Dive's the one who should see this first—was never into this kinda crap myself….when he comes back from wherever he is…he's in the can right?"

"Think so," Mookie answered.  "Didn't look so good."

"Oh I know what you mean, sister," Lestat answered, staring at the shirt.  Mookie expected him to say something that would involve bashing Dive's appearance, but he said nothing else.  After considering the shirt a little more, Lestat said softly,  "Maybe you should let him keep it…you know…he could become your walking Phishman tool."

He turned to Duke.  "Say old man, you here for the initiation rights of the Lestat Groupie Club, or do you have another reason for being here?"

Duke shrugged, looked away fast.  "Just thought the kiddo could use some company today is all."  He gestured his thumb towards the bathroom, and Lestat knew that Duke was straining his hearing, listening to the sounds of vomiting.  "Him and Wing."

A deliveryman entered the store, carrying three brown food bags.  Mookie got out her wallet and Thrash went to the fridge. 

Lestat nodded again, almost impatiently.  "Yeah I know, dude, I said that before.  I tried to go into Wing's room that morning, you know, to see how he was doing, and stuff, but he seemed alright…to me.  At least, he said he was."

Duke glanced at Mara, then back at Lestat.  "Yeah, well I know this sounds like I'm jumping to conclusions and all real early, but when I went in Wing's room today—''

"What business _you_ doing in Wing's room, boy?"  Lestat's voice had undertones of playfulness, but Duke didn't hear them.

"I said I went into Wing's room and I saw that something was missing—on his nightstand next to the alarm clock—''

"Yeah, man, but why the hell would you—''

"Because he was acting funny okay?!  Jesus yo!"  Duke's sudden moodiness caught Lestat off guard.  He kept his eyes on Duke, trying to establish eye contact, trying to look tough by not backing down from his inquiry.  He was about to ask again, but when he saw that Duke wouldn't look away from him, he felt childish for trying to stare down an older member.  He felt a hot blush coming to him as he knew that Thrash, Mookie, and Mara had heard Duke's outburst.  The deliveryman had left by then, and Thrash fumbled with the brown bags.

"Hey dudes…I know what'll cheer the Divester up," he said, quickly getting out what was in the bag.  "Nice hot mexicana and some cold beer to wash it down!  Whoa, shouldn't of said that with the rents around!"  He winked at Mara and Duke.

"Yeah that'll do it," Mara replied, when she noticed that neither Duke nor Lestat would answer Thrash.  "I mean, nothing like a depressant to chase the blues away."

Thrash laughed, and so did Mookie and Mara.  Duke tried to stifle something, but Lestat only folded his arms are looked down at the floor moodily.

Mara took Duke's hand.  "Maybe we should get going…Lestat can stay here, and we can see how Wing's doing, okay?"  Duke could tell by the way that she gripped his hand that she was not asking.  He sighed, running his hand through his bangs as he heard flushing coming from the bathroom.  "Ok, then…uh, keep an eye on Nosedive, alright 'Stat?  Lestat?"  When he looked up, he saw Lestat listening to his headphones so loud that they could hear the music with his back turned to them.  Mara only gestured to the door, and she and Duke left.

"Uh, take care guys," Mookie called loudly, unwrapping her burrito from the bag.  She waved conspicuously as a signal to Lestat that they were on their way out.  Lestat only shifted his eyes to the side then looked back at the walls, pretending to concentrate on the band shirts hanging there.  

Thrash clapped Lestat on the back—hard. 

"Aw cheer up, little dude," Thrash said, pretending not to notice that he knocked the headphones off Lestat's head.  "Here, chow down."  He handed Lestat a greasy taco.  Lestat looked at it, shrugged, then took a small bite from it.  He looked down at it again contemptuously, then at Thrash and Mookie.  After giving them a nod, he ate the rest of it. 

Nosedive came out of the restroom, his feathers looking a little drab, his hand wiping his beak.  Thrash and Mookie smiled in his direction, and Lestat even managed a little wave.  When Nosedive saw the sight of the food, he shook his head and then fingered weakly through the comics.  He felt something on his arm, a shadow over him.  He jumped, turned around, instinctively putting his hand by his side, but it was only Mookie standing there behind him with a pained look on her face from his expression.     

"Whoa, hey Mookie, didn't notice you there…say any you guys got a breath mint?  I just blew chunks—you know how that goes…must be a flu going around, huh?" 

Mookie smiled.  "Yeah, it's that time of the year," she said, handing Nosedive a piece of gum.  Thrash thrust a frosty can of beer in Nosedive's face.  He looked up, surprised. 

"Sorry, man, but that's all we got—we know you're underage, but what the hell right man?" he winked.  Nosedive took the can, perplexed, but he did not open it.  He wasn't in the mood for beer—he wanted water.  They always kept water around there somewhere, he was sure.

"Hey, where you been all my life, eh baby?"  Lestat pointed out the way Nosedive stared at the unopened Millers Lite.  "He don't know whether to drink it or stick his tongue in it…well, you could do both, I guess," Lestat finished as an afterthought.

That followed by some surprisingly loud laughter from Thrash and Mookie.  The tightening in Nosedive's stomach returned again, but this time from annoyance.  He put the can of beer aside, then picked up a random comic.

"And so how did it end?"

"How else man?  They all die!"

Nosedive jumped, his face only half visible from the comic.  He looked down at the comic and realized, with a cold flush to his face, that it was a porn comic.  His hands suddenly felt clammy, and he put the comic down in a hurry.     

"Whoa, I'm telling you dudes and dudettes, that was—without a doubt—the trippiest movie I ever saw last night—bar none!"

 Nosedive felt as if an hour passed rather than a few minutes.  He had tried to pay attention to Thrash so that he could jump into the conversation with his friend, but something kept going out of focus in his mind.

"So then the movie ends where the mutant squirrel beats the guy to death with the corpses of his own dead family!  Brilliant!"

"Whoa, what the fuck, bitch! I'm eating here!"  Mookie chimed in, but Nosedive saw that by the way she ate her bean burrito that she was hardly disgusted.  She rolled up a newspaper and hit Thrash over the shoulder.  "Besides, how the hell did you know what happened if you were smoking outta a bowl every five minutes?! I don't remember anything like that!"  Chewed bits of food dribbled down her chin as she shouted.  

"That's cause you was smoking up with me, dumbass!"

"Oh fuck you, man—that's it—'' Mookie laughed and threw what she had left of her bean burrito at Thrash, who only partially ducked.  A big chunk hit Lestat square in the forehead.  To Nosedive's surprise, he didn't make a move to wipe it off—none of them did.

"You should join us sometime, Stat," Mookie said to him, ignoring the smears of food on his face. "But hell, the party starts when Nosedive smokes a joint, like t'cha!"  She paused to throw her glance in Nosedive's direction.  He felt puzzled—as if he should not have been watching them.  He shifted and tapped on the top of the glass counter absent-mindedly.  When he noticed that Lestat had his yellow eyes on him, he began to feel the hot sensation of embarrassment coming on. 

"Hey, whatsa matter, dude?  We're not good enough to cheer you up now?"  Lestat's gentle tone didn't hide the meanness in his eyes.  Nosedive shrugged, and then asked, "Say, Mook-myster, how much is that patch over there? The Ramones one... think I might buy it."

With a wave of her hand Mookie pulled out the key from one of the many pockets of her plaid pants.  Nosedive could see the orange grease smeared into her fingernails as she fumbled with the lock, almost losing her grip on the key.  She pulled out the patch and wiped her mouth with it before she placed it on the counter.  Nosedive surprised himself when he said "What the hell" loudly enough for the others to hear. 

"Don't get your panties all up in a bunch," Thrash answered back, and Nosedive regretted saying anything at all.  There was smeared bean burrito still on the back shoulder of his shirt.  "It's washable. Hey dudes, did you hear?  They found a little girl's body last week—raped and choked." 

Nosedive saw Lestat shake his head and smile scornfully.  He continued to bob his head along to the music blaring from his headphones, rather than wearing them on his head he arrogantly hung them around his neck like a necklace as if he was daring the world to tell him not to.  _"I wanna fuck you like an animal,"_ he softly sang the Nine Inch Nails lyrics.

"Killer used her own plastic necklace," Mookie added, thumbing through the box of new CD's and leaving stains on them.  "Got her so hard that one of her eyes was missing.  Popped out, t'cha."

_Nosedive had woken up during the middle of the night, but he didn't remember why._

"And get this—all of her fingers were gone—they said he probably bit 'em off, dude."

Nosedive felt sick again.  He thought he could hear the others talk over the blaring music radiating from Lestat's headphones, but their words came out jarred—as if their words came from an underwater loud speaker.

"Hey, you know what I wonder?" Lestat finally said through the music, feigning a voice of innocent inquiry as he took his right hand and rubbed the crotch of his jeans.  "I wonder if he fucked the empty eye socket—''

"_Hey how's about a nice cup of shut the fuck up already!_"  Nosedive's shouts stopped the music, along with Thrash and Mookie's laughter.  _There had been a nauseous feeling in his whole body when he opened his eyes to the blurred grays of the darkened room in the middle of that night, something that he couldn't quite place, even when he stopped to concentrate on the nausea.  _

Mookie and Thrash turned away, smirking, while Lestat stared hard at him with his cold, yellow eyes, the vertical scar slicing across his skin like a scythe. 

"You shouldn't talk so much," he told Nosedive, his manner threatening, patronizing.  "You need to be quiet."

_But it was just an overall feeling of sickness, a physical unsettling that made him doze restlessly in and out of a drowsy stupor.  _

Nosedive turned around, about to leave, and the bright sky outside bothered him so much that he had to look down at the mottled carpet.  The carpet eventually turned to the neutral grays of the sidewalk—he did not notice that he didn't go through the door at all.  A weight like a wall in his chest emerged, and when he looked up there was someone waiting there—a drake with a grayish coat, eyes hidden underneath a cap.

He never saw the drake before, he knew that, but a foreign fear settled within him, took his breath and turned it into short hiccups, like repressed sobs.  Nosedive thought if the drake lifted his face to him, if he saw his eyes--

_You need to be quiet_.

It reminded him of the night terrors he would get as a duckling, the horrors hidden underneath the bed, the crackling of eggshells, something trespassing what he thought was the safe sanctuary of his bed.  He would see the devil if the drake lifted his dead eyes again.  __

_You need to--_

"Wake up!! Puckworld to Nosedive, hey!"

Nosedive awoke so suddenly that he slipped off the porcelain of the toilet lid and landed with a heavy thud on the floor.  Darkness all around him. 

Knocking on the other side, Thrash's voice.  "Hey Dive, man…you okay in there?"

Nosedive thought of getting a drink of water from the sink to wash the bitter taste of bile from his beak, but in the darkness he just wanted to get to the door where Thrash waited.    

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw Mookie looking worriedly at him, clutching a black shirt.

"Uh…where's Duke and Mara?" Nosedive tried to pretend like everything was ok. 

"Left a while ago."  Lestat looking at him now, headphones around his neck.  No music blaring now—just the thick silence of awkwardness, the aftermath of a scare his three friends just had.  Nosedive waited for a smart comment, but Lestat only looked back at him searchingly.  "Uh…say dude, _who_ wouldn't move?"

Nosedive blinked, ran his hand through his hair, made a note to take a shower when he got back.  "Whuh—what?"

"I don't know, man, you tell me.  That's all you kept saying in there."

"Did you fall asleep?" Mookie timidly put a hand on Nosedive's shoulder.  "We heard the sound of you—you know—getting all sick and junk, and then we heard the bathroom light click off, and we thought you'd come out, but…"

"How long was I in there?"

"For a while," Lestat answered.

"Was I talking to you?"

"We heard you muttering something about not moving," Lestat went on, "So what the hell were you talking about?"

Nosedive thought he heard one of them add something, but he didn't wait to hear them out and left the store, letting the glass door bang behind him.  

_When the dawn had finally descended that morning, Nosedive discovered that his pillow case was damp where his upper face had been.  It was almost as if he had experienced a cold sweat last night, the last remnants of a fever—or maybe he had cried._

To Be Continued…


End file.
